It seems I’ve developed a problem where reading is concerned. I hop around and don’t finish much. I looked at the books I was reading in February only to realize I haven’t finished any of them. I’ve started others. This is a new phenomenon. I used to read one book at a time start to finish. Then I found it was two at a time. Now it’s four or five and maybe I finish one. I wonder about this and what it’s a sign of. It seems to me that is is probably a symptom of the fact that I am at a stage in life where I feel I can’t get enough. It started when I turned fifty. I felt the clock of life begin to tick in a way I never had before. So much I want to do, learn, experience, say, taste, read, be. So little time left to do it all. No time for one book at a time anymore. It’s like I’m trying to cram life in with a shovel, drink it in from a fire hose. It’s counterproductive. When I was just reading one book at a time, I finished a couple of books a month. Now, I’m reading five and finish one every three months. It’s funny how a thing like my reading habits can reveal an entire existential crisis .